


Stolen Wands and Pinkie Promises

by RueRambunctious



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Semi-Public Sex, reckless! Hermione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 08:43:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7677697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RueRambunctious/pseuds/RueRambunctious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione encounters Barty in the aftermath of the Wizarding World Cup chaos and has a secret tryst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stolen Wands and Pinkie Promises

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago (years ago, actually) and looking back I think Hermione might not have been canonically of age during this timeline. So to avoid any squick, I am stating that Hermione is at least 17 in this fic (16 being the age of consent in England).

“Haven’t you ever been scared?”

The masked figure turned around. He was alone because he had wanted to survey the havoc he and the others had caused. It was an arrogant notion but it had been a long time since he had enjoyed himself like this, and he had missed it. This girl only needed to draw attention to his presence and he would probably be fighting a mob for his life using only a stolen wand.

Yet her tone was conversational, not threatening.

“Of course I’ve been scared,” the Death Eater announced.

“Those muggles were terrified,” the girl said.

“I’m filled with remorse,” the young man answered drily.

The girl gave him a stern look. Its audacity made it effective: she was a young girl, alone, with dirt streaking her face and clothes, staring down an armed Death Eater.  
“It’s not like they were my own kind,” the Death Eater said.

“That’s not the point!” the girl exclaimed in a low voice. A low voice that would not draw attention from the crowd nearby.

“If you want me to say that I’m awfully sorry for my earlier actions you’re in for a very long wait,” the Death Eater replied.

The girl took a step forwards, looking provoked. “Do not insinuate that I am stupid because I am appalled about what you and your cronies did tonight. I am not naive enough to ask for an apology from you. I want to understand why you did those horrible things.”

“It’s simple, darling,” the Death Eater retorted. “I don’t believe my behaviour tonight was terrible. In fact, I think it was the best thing I have done in years.”

“Your mother must be so proud,” the girl snapped.

The Death Eater flinched. His expression was obscured by his mask but his stance made the sting of the comment evident. “She just didn’t understand,” he said.

The girl pounced on the stray emotion. “How would you have felt if you had been one of those children up in the air tonight? How would you feel to see your mother abused like that? How would your mother feel to see you torture children? Would she have let you treat an elf like that? Or an animal?”

“Never,” the Death Eater said, swallowing. “But it’s different. Muggles are the enemy...”

“They’re still sentient beings Barty!” the girl snapped.

The Death Eater blinked. “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” the girl said coolly.

“If you know who I am...”

“Of course I know who you are,” the girl said. “I’ve told you I’m not stupid. You think I wouldn’t recognise my friend’s stolen wand anywhere? Do you honestly think I’m too stupid to realise you were sitting behind us, just because I couldn’t see you?”

“Clever, aren’t you?” the Death Eater said. “But if you’ve worked this all out, why haven’t you told anyone? If you’re so smart, why did you follow me all by your lonesome?”

“Because you’re supposed to be smart! I frequently get called the brightest witch of our age but you got better grades than me. You must be capable of thinking things through and realising that being cruel is wrong.”

Barty sighed. “H...Hermione, isn’t it? You should...”

“You know fine well it’s Hermione,” the girl said frostily. “You sat behind us for hours. Stop playing stupid games. It’s beneath you.”

“Fine, Hermione,” Barty said. “You do know I wouldn’t hurt a witch, don’t you? Not unless we were duelling.”

“Is that a threat?” Hermione asked dryly.

“No! No, it isn’t,” said Barty. “I just wanted you to know... that I’m not as despicable as you think. I’m doing these things for a cause. I wouldn’t hurt my own.”

“That’s the problem! ‘I wouldn’t hurt my own’. You shouldn’t be hurting anyone,” Hermione snapped.

“If we don’t take control of the muggles they’ll take control of us,” Barty said.

“Do you know what I am?” Hermione said.

“You mean the circumstances of your birth?” Barty replied. “Of course. The Golden Trio are famous. I have seen a magazine or two since my... release.”

“How does it feel talking to a mudblood? I’m still a witch,” Hermione said. “And my ‘controlling muggle parents’ are the nicest parents in the world. They support everything I do and they are proud of me.”

“They’re proud of you?” Barty said softly. “Well that’s what’s wrong with the world!”

“We can’t help who our parents are Barty,” Hermione said gently. “Just like muggles can’t help not being magical.”

“It’s not the same,” Barty said. He sounded hurt.

“Barty?”

“What?”

“Why did you only steal Harry’s wand? Why didn’t you try to harm him for your Lord?”

Barty looked away. “Because I wasn’t strong enough. Because he was surrounded.”

“Barty I am warning you, stop treating me like I am stupid,” Hermione said ominously.

Barty looked at the floor. His chastised posture contrasted with his scary garb in a way that almost pushed nervous laughter from Hermione’s mouth. She swallowed it as Barty spoke, “Because I don’t believe in hurting our own,” he said. “People like you and him, you’re just ignorant. You’re still wizarding people. If you could just understand...”

“Barty, your Lord kills indiscriminate of race,” Hermione said delicately. “If they’re Light, he’ll do what he can to destroy them.”

“It wasn’t always like that,” Barty said.

“Barty, there was a war before you were put away. You know fine well that Light wizards were killed in large quantities,” Hermione retorted.

“But it wasn’t like that at the start!” Barty said. “We were a family. We were proud of our wizarding blood. We were trying to make it better for ourselves and our families.”

“If you want a better world, Barty, you’re serving the wrong wizard,” Hermione said.

“You think I should follow a kid?” Barty sneered.

“I am not a kid!” Hermione said, “so Harry’s not a kid either. And I wasn’t talking about Harry. Use your brain for once instead of looking for a conspiracy in everything.”

“I don’t understand,” Barty admitted.

“If you want to make a better wizarding world, do it yourself Barty. And I don't mean going off hunting muggles. I mean look at problems within the Wizarding community and find solutions.”

Barty stared at Hermione for a long time. “It’s not that simple.”

“How is it not that simple?” Hermione asked.

Barty pulled up the sleeve of his robe to expose his tattooed arm. “It’s not that simple,” he repeated. “I’m Marked for life.”

“There are libraries, aren’t there?” Hermione said. She had to swallow hard, because there was something startlingly intimate about looking at Barty’s arm. “Find out how that works, then work out how to make it not work.”

There was a wry smile in Barty’s voice. “Is that a challenge from the brightest witch of our age?”

“Of course it is,” Hermione said.

Noises from the crowd nearby drew the pair’s attention. “You should probably go,” Barty said. “Your friends might be worried about where you are.”

“Alone in the woods with a Death Eater exposing his private tattoo to me?” Hermione teased.

Barty laughed. “Something like that.”

Hermione smiled. “I’ll go in a minute. I need something from you first.”

“What?” Barty asked.

“Two things,” Hermione said. “Firstly, I need your promise that you’re going to try and be a person your mother would be proud of. And remember, you can’t break a promise to a child.”

Barty gave another soft laugh. “You’re hardly a child, Hermione. I promise.”

“Good. Now pinkie-swear on your promise that you’ll be a better man,” Hermione ordered, holding out her little finger.

“No Wizarding Oath?” Barty asked, enclosing Hermione’s finger in his large hand.

“You can’t break an oath out of fear of the consequences. That’s no better than your Mark. You keep a pinkie-promise for the honour.”

Barty opened his hand and twined his finger with Hermione’s. He could not remember the last time he had been so close to anyone, or this intimate with an interesting, amusing female. “I swear.”

“You swear what?” Hermione prompted.

“I swear I’ll go to a library more,” Barty said wryly. He looked into Hermione’s eyes. “And I swear I’ll try to make the world better.” He tightened his grip, then let go. “What was the second thing?”

Hermione held out her hand. “I need Harry’s wand back. I’m sure you’re resourceful enough to steal another.”

Barty gave her a mildly disappointed look but reached into his robes. “Encouraging stealing now?”

“I don’t need you to be a saint,” Hermione said.

Barty held out Harry’s wand. “Who says you need me at all?”

Hermione stared into Barty’s eyes as she took the wand. “I do,” she said. “Someone has to believe in you.”

“Why?” Barty whispered.

“For your mother’s sake,” said Hermione.

“Now who’s speaking down to the other?” Barty said.

Hermione stared at the eyes surrounded by the hellish mask. “What do you want me to say?”

Barty could see Hermione’s gaze flicking to his mask. He pulled it off of his face and exposed his features to view. He let Hermione stare at him. “You know what I want you to say,” he whispered.

“I hardly know you,” Hermione said. Their hands were still touching atop of Harry’s wand.

“You know me better than most,” Barty said. “Get to know me more.”

Hermione thought hard as she stared at Barty. Then she stopped thinking entirely and leaned up on her toes to kiss him. It seemed to take him by surprise but Barty quickly responded. His tongue explored her eagerly and his free hand twisted gently in her messy hair.

Hermione wrapped her free hand around his waist, pulling him closer. Her arm snaked up and she wrapped a fistful of his Death Eater robes in her hand. Barty continued to kiss her, his method becoming more passionate and wanton. Hermione realised he probably hadn’t been with a woman since before Azkaban. Did they have time for that?

Barty’s kissing diverted from her mouth and began to explore her jawbone, then her collarbone. Hermione melted against him. Barty began to kiss her breasts through her clothing. Hermione kissed the now exposed part of Barty’s neck. His hand left her hair and began to push up her shirt.

Barty pulled back, letting go of Harry’s wand and stepping away from Hermione.

“What are you doing?” asked the bewildered teen.

“Exactly,” Barty gasped, wiping his mouth. “I’m sorry Hermione, I didn’t mean to push you that far...”

Hermione felt bold. She had just had a Death Eater slobbering over her desperately. She took hold of Barty’s wrist forcefully –but not harshly- and dragged his hand to the wetness that had seeped through her jeans. “I’m not a child,” she reminded him. “Stop wasting time, because my friends will be worried by now.”

“You want to be rutting with a Death Eater when your friends are worried about you?” Barty asked.

Hermione ignored the tone of his voice. “Yes, I do,” she said. She took the hand that was still resting on her damp crotch and helped it unfasten her fly.

“Hermione...” Barty murmured. He sounded guilty and nervous.

“I’m a teenager. I’m on the pill to keep my skin clear,” Hermione said, sounding exasperated.

“Oh. I hadn’t thought about that,” Barty admitted. His thumb was brushing the sensitive skin between Hermione’s hips seemingly unconsciously.

“What, then?” Hermione asked, shivering from Barty’s touch.

“Even if we do this... I haven’t... It’s been a while,” Barty confessed. “I probably...”

“There is no ‘if’ at this point,” Hermione said bossily. “My youthful hormones are telling me that if you don’t undress right now I am going to banish your clothes and you’re going to have to steal a new outfit as well as a new wand. As for speed, time is of the essence here. Hurry up and fuck me.” Hermione swallowed and blushed a little at her boldness. She rarely swore. Or propositioned strangers.

Barty did not seem to mind. He had stopped stroking her and was pulling off his robes, letting them fall to the floor. He kicked them into a semblance of a black picnic blanket and hurriedly pulled off the rest of his clothing.

Barty looked up at Hermione’s swift intake of breath. “Have I done something wrong?”

Hermione shook her head. She stared at Barty’s pale body.

Barty swallowed and ran his hand nervously over his torso. “I know I’m a little skinny... but Azkaban does that to you...”

Hermione chuckled. “I’m perving on you, you idiot,” she said.

“Oh,” said Barty. He smiled in relief. “Oh. Then hurry up and let me return the favour.”

“This will be quicker if you help me,” Hermione said. Barty did not need to be told twice. He approached her and carefully helped rid her of her clothing. When both were equally nude Barty pressed their bodies together. He seemed to Hermione to radiate an enormous amount of heat in the cold air. He began exploring her with his mouth.

“Do we have time for than anywhere other than my breasts and...” Hermione yelped as Barty lightly smacked the side of her thigh.

“Enough,” he scolded. “I am in lovemaking mode now and we’ll take as long as I damn well like.”

Hermione grinned and submitted again to the kissing. “Alright.”

“Did I ask for a commentary?” Barty sighed around Hermione’s nipple.

“No,” Hermione gasped.

“Then kindly cease and desist. The only noises I want to hear from you are gasps, whimpers and moans. Possibly some exuberant screams, if you don't mind how close we are to a vast quantity of people. If you really must, you may offer suggestions to help my technique, such as directions. Other than that, stop talking,” Barty scolded as he kneaded Hermione’s breasts.

“Okay,” Hermione said.

Barty stepped back and gave the aroused girl a stern look. “What did I just say?”

“Sorry,” Hermione grinned. Barty sighed, half-amused, and pulled her over to his robes. He had not quite sat down when he found he had a lap filled with Hermione. “Oof,” he gasped. “Eager, aren’t you?”

“No talking,” Hermione said playfully. She began licking his nipples as her fingers snaked down to his pubic hair. Barty rolled his eyes at her comment and moaned at her attentions.

Hermione pushed Barty onto his back and straddled him. It occurred to her that she was about to have sex on top of Death Eater robes. She giggled.

“Why are you laughing?” Barty asked, sounding put-upon.

“I’m happy,” Hermione said.

“Less laughing, more moaning,” Barty said, sliding his hands down to the wetness that was already spreading over his stomach.

“Good... idea...” Hermione gasped.

Barty raised one eyebrow. Did she ever shut up?

Hermione looked at him. “Faster,” she smiled.

Barty rolled his eyes again and obeyed, amused and aroused by the way his finger-movements finally shut the pretty girl up. He stared at Hermione’s bucking hips until he was startled by Hermione slapping his chest.

“Ow,” he said. “What the hell?”

“Stop staring and get involved,” Hermione said.

Barty wiggled his fingers. “I think you’ll find I am involved.”

“Fuck me, you idiot,” Hermione growled.

Barty’s eyebrows rose in surprise at her tone. “You lions are such romantics,” he said. He removed his hand and sucked the resultant liquid from his hand. Hermione rolled her eyes as he began licking up the drops that has streaked down his wrist. She mounted him whilst he was thus occupied, and smirked at the surprised gasp of pleasure that burst from Barty’s lips.

“Are you ready now?” Hermione teased.

“Of course!” Barty replied, raising his hips sharply to wipe the smug look from the girl’s face. The resultant moan made him swallow hard. Fuck. Her tight, slick walls were the best thing he had ever experienced.

Hermione rolled her head back and arched her spine. Barty needed no directions. He rolled his hips gently for a while to allow her to adapt to his girth, then began to fuck her with reckless abandon. Hermione fell forwards and gripped his shoulders, using all her concentration not to scream loudly and at length. Or at all. She tried not to forget how close they were to other people.

Suddenly Barty began to tremble beneath her. He placed a hand on her hip. “Slow down a minute, slow down. We need to pause for a couple of minutes or I’m going to be finished.”

Hermione obeyed and leaned closer to kiss Barty’s face. He moaned as the movement shifted the way her body held him. “You bloody tease,” he whispered into Hermione’s mouth. The girl had to pull back to laugh and Barty grabbed both of her hips to hold her still. “You’re a torment woman!” he declared. He sighed and rested his head on his robes. “Okay, I think I’m back in the game now.”

Hermione rolled her hips. “You’re sure?”

“Fuck,” Barty whispered. “Yes.”

Hermione grinned and began rocking with increasing speed. Barty squirmed beneath her, a guttural moan rumbling out of his chest. Hemione’s slickness was everywhere. He could feel it pooling in his naval and flattening his leg hairs to his skin. She smelt mouth-watering and her breasts bounced tauntingly above his face. He reached up and massaged them, adoring the way it made Hermione whimper.

Suddenly Hermione bucked forwards and bit down hard on Barty’s shoulder. He moaned in a mixture of surprise and arousal. He felt her tremble and start to contract around him. Hermione screeeeeeaaaaaaammmmmedddddd.

Fuckfuckfuck. Barty trembled with her and clung to Hermione as his own climax tore through him. His hips jerked wildly as he spilled himself inside her.

“Wow,” Hermione murmured.

“Wow,” Barty agreed hoarsely.

Hermione pressed a kiss onto Barty’s lips. “We’d better go, people will have heard,” she said regretfully.

“I don’t think anyone will have mistaken that for a scream of fear,” Barty said wryly, but obediently pulled out gently and reached for his clothed. A new, warm wetness on his groin surprised him. “Do we have time for that?” he asked Hermione.

“I’m only cleaning you up,” Hermione answered with difficulty from around his cock.

“There are spells for that,” Barty replied.

“Yes, but you don’t have a wand,” Hermione smirked.

Barty sighed. Fuck. He wasn’t going to have to dress whilst sticky, was he? He noticed the two wands sticking out of Hermione’s pocket. He picked up the nearest one and used it to clean them both up. He handed it back to Hermione. 

Hermione glanced at the wand Barty held out. “How did you manage to use my wand?”

“I guess we’re compatible,” Barty answered, sliding out from underneath her warm body and beginning to dress.

Hermione regarded him for a moment then stood. She had to lean against a tree to try to stay standing... She felt like she had been hit with a jellylegs hex. After a few moments Hermione began to pull on her clothes. Barty lifted her bra out of her grasp. “I’m taking a memento,” he said.

Hermione smiled and did not protest. She pulled on her top and reached for her jeans. She stood on Barty’s mask. “Are these hard to come across?”

“Did you break it? No, not really. It’s transfigured.”

“Can I keep it?” Hermione asked.

“You want to keep a Death Eater mask?” Barty asked, sounding mildly incredulous.

“I want to remember that you took it off,” Hermione said.

Barty glanced at her. “Sure.” He bent down and pulled on his shoes.

Hermione transfigured the mask into a piece of World Cup memorabilia and clipped it to a belt loop on her jeans. She stepped back into her shoes.

“Will I see you again?” Hermione asked Barty’s back. He was lifting his robes from the floor.

He turned. “Keep an eye out for me on your next Hogsmeade weekend,” he said. “I’ll be there if I can.”

“Okay,” Hermione said. She kissed Barty and turned away. “See you around, Smartypants.”

Barty grinned. “It was nice to meet you, Chatterbox.” Hermione turned around to grin at him then disappeared into the woods. Barty glanced down at his robes. They stank of sex. He smiled and headed off in another direction to find another wand.

Hermione watched him go from a small distance away. She took the transfigured mask off of her jeans and transfigured it once more. She held what was now a mask-shaped pendant in her hands for a moment then attached it to the chain she was already wearing in order to have it close to her skin. She placed it underneath her clothing and wandered off to find her friends, wondering whether she had just lost her mind.


End file.
